


Adventure

by verucasalt123



Series: 2013 wishlist_fic fills [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Ficlet, Het, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this prompt: <i>Sherlock is fascinated by girl next door. She moves like a willow in the wind, dances like a pulse, is unfazed by death or his demeanor, and he can't figure her out. This makes her irresistible. Buffy is pretty sure that dating someone who is a fusion of Anya and Cordelia, a functioning sociopath, and has his own heterosexual life partner can still be considered a step up for her in the dating dept. Buffy and normal has always been unmixy. She'll take extraordinary instead. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Adventure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xgirl2222](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=xgirl2222).



He was reading and she was on the phone.

She was on the phone a lot. He was used to it. What he wasn’t used to was only pretending to read because listening to her chat up her friends gave him clues. 

Working this hard for information should have frustrated Sherlock to no end, but he found it only made him feel victorious when he caught a little piece of something he didn’t already know. 

There were so many things about this relationship that should have or should not have the effect they did on Sherlock. Just the fact that it existed was difficult for him to understand himself. She was American ( _Californian_ , of all things). Her name was Buffy, and no, it wasn’t a nickname. She never batted an eyelash hearing about his experiments or the grisly details of his cases, casually adding a glossy top coat to her manicure while she asked questions like, “Doesn’t that get all goopy and ick?” or “So you think the dead guy just got dumped there after the slice and dice job?” It was clear that violence and gore didn’t make her uncomfortable, but she certainly didn’t know much about criminal behavior; at least not the type that Sherlock encountered. Another mystery he couldn’t solve about this fast-talking woman who belonged to a boxing club instead of a gym but wouldn’t consider even a quick trip to the market without lipstick and three-inch heels. 

When he’d tried to explain it to John, he just got a chuckle and a “Don’t you think leaving some things to the imagination makes a relationship more exciting?” as a response. 

And usually, the answer to that question would be a resounding _no_ , but Sherlock had no appropriate comparison in his history to being involved with someone sexually and emotionally, as his previous relationships had always been one or the other. He had people that he cared about, and he had people that he’d slept with, but those two groups did not intersect. Until now. Buffy was the only connection in that particular Venn Diagram. 

Astonishingly enough, he was finding that John’s viewpoint made sense. In the past, it was so easy for him to call up almost any piece of information about a person that he hadn’t considered the possibility that it wasn’t always necessary. For his work, it was immensely helpful; for choosing those few people he trusted and cared for, it was invaluable. But for this…it was seeming less and less important.

Buffy told him she’d come to England to visit a friend, her best friend, who lived at some kind of school well south of the city. (He’d looked up the school and found it was more comparable to a commune, a group of women and girls who learned to live in nature, grow their own food, administer homeopathic medicine and other things Sherlock thought were fairly ridiculous but not harmful or suspicious.)

She’d fallen in love with London and been sponsored for citizenship by an Englishman, an older man who was her “teacher, kind of, for a while, and friend and sorta pseudo-dad type thing”. (Sherlock went to the trouble of having his brother do a thorough background check on the man and was assured that he was, in fact, a teacher, formerly in a private and very established academy and now at a secondary school near Newcastle, with no criminal record or worrisome associations.)

Her mother was deceased and her sister was happily married back in California. Buffy was not planning to leave London despite her incessant complaints about the weather, refusal to acknowledge the metric system and the apparent lack of quality pizza.

Sherlock knew things, of course, that Buffy hadn’t told him. She’d had experiences so traumatic that they would probably have emotionally crippled someone who wasn’t as strong as she was. She had lost more people that anyone her age ever should have – some she’d told him about, but it was clear there was much more than she was saying. She’d been injured, physically, many times, which explained her expertise in self-defense but not her propensity for exceptionally aggressive sex. Maybe she would share more with him over time; they hadn’t been together that long. 

And so it was that he found himself content with hearing Buffy giggle about her friend’s latest crush ( _Why can’t you just say you noticed her because of her awesome boobies, Willow? You don’t have to be all coy about it with me!_ ) and being referred to as her boyfriend ( _Yes, he’s here, and I have to go because I’m being rude and making him pretend to read a book while he listens to us gossiping_ ). 

Learning new things about her, over time, based only on experience, was an adventure in itself. And let no one say that Sherlock Holmes didn’t love an adventure.


End file.
